


Blaine Sinclaire

by ChristiLynne



Category: Marvel(ish)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristiLynne/pseuds/ChristiLynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so this is a character I made a while back, and I really need to write out his whole story, for closure and all that. So yes, have fun! This is just the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blaine Sinclaire

Blaine was groggy, but he knew he had to wake. There was something important, something he had to keep safe. Or someone. His head was pounding, each beat of his heart was like a sledge hammer inside his skull. The lights were turned down low, and he finally managed to get his eyes open and sit up. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was and why. He closed his eyes, trying to focus and think. All he could remember was his name, just his first name and age. It was Blaine, and he was twelve. Every time he tried to think past that he got hit with another stab of pain, until there was no point in trying. He could remember basic things, like how to do math and read, but personal details were non-existent.  
Eventually he stood up, and decided to try and figure some things out from where he was. He was in a bare little room, there was nothing in there except the blanket he’d been laying on. There were two doors, so he decided to see if they went anywhere. The first one was locked, and no matter how hard he tried it wouldn’t budge. He went to the second one, which opened easily. It revealed another room, just like his own. There was someone in there, laying in the floor on a blanket just like his own. He walked over, wanting to see their face. He could tell it was a girl, several years younger than himself. He knelt down and brushed her hair back from her face, then was hit with familiarity hard as a hammer.  
He knew this girl, even her name. It was Sasha, and she was his sister. He closed his eyes, biting back bile. It was obvious she had been tortured; he was sure he had similar markings on himself. She was still asleep, so he gathered her up into his lap, determined to protect her from anything that might come for them. Rage was building inside him until it made his hands tremble, and he knew whoever had done this would pay one day.  
`  
We’ve been stuck in this hell hole for two months now, every day much like the day before. The only way we know how long it’s been is because Sasha pulled back a corner of carpet and makes a mark on the wood beneath each morning. We’re not sure if they want us to be keeping up with that sort of thing, so we’ve kept it hidden. Getting caught and punished isn’t something either of us wants, especially for each other.  
Each day starts off with the door to the hall opening long enough for them to slip in a tray with some food on it for each of us. We eat quickly; knowing the moment they return whatever is left will be taken away. They come back about twenty minutes later, guns pointing right at us. They take us to our separate rooms and start demanding we do things. At first it doesn’t make any sense. Why would they want me to touch a man with a gash on his head? Or pick up something off of a table rolled in? It’s the same with my sister, just different questions. Like, think about certain things, focus on this or that. What is this place?  
Eventually I start to notice small changes. There are small grins when I pick up objects. They seem perfectly light to me, but by the strain I can see evident on the rolly cart this can’t be true. I start messing around when they’re gone; trying to see what it is they think I can do. I can pick up Sasha with one hand and not break a sweat. There’s still no furniture in the room, so there’s not a whole lot to test. Everything in the bathroom is bolted down. Seeing me be able to do things I shouldn’t be able to do, Sasha starts trying when they’re gone as well. It starts small, just a lift to her hair like there’s a breeze. But now we know. They want to use us, or test on us. But I’m leaning towards the use idea. I don’t share this with Sasha.  
One day after they leave and I join Sasha in her room, I see a bruise spreading across her cheek. Rage grew inside my mind, and I reached out to gently wipe her tears away. The moment my fingers touched her cheek, I felt a tug, a pull of some sort inside me. I closed my eyes and focused on it, not knowing what it was for but reaching for it anyway. When I opened my eyes, Sasha’s eyes were wide, and her cheek was back to normal. So this was why they kept having me touch people, they wanted me to heal them. Apparently I had to want to do it though.  
Why did they know these things about us? How did they know when we didn’t? How did we get here? They were wrong to think we could be so easily contained.  
`  
Once we realized what we could do, we started making a plan. We were getting out of there, and there was nothing they could do to stop us.  
We gave ourselves a few days to figure out exactly what we were capable of. I began by punching things, lightly at first, then seeing my hand go through the wall like it was nothing more than butter. Sash could pick me up and make me do summersaults with a simple thought. We decided we were ready, and planned to act it out the next morning. We had been holding back in front of them, so they didn’t know what we were capable of. It would be their last mistake.  
They came in like normal, guns pointed and demanding we move. A grin like I had never seen her make before spread over Sasha’s face and the guns went flying out of their hands. The surprised looks on their faces only lasted for a minute before I was on them, placing blows to their heads to knock them out or kill them. I didn’t really care which.  
More men came pouring into the room, surrounding us. At first I didn’t notice the floor rumbling; moving as though there were an earth quake. Next thing I knew I was floating in the air, and the building was crumbling beneath me. I looked over, and Sasha was floating next to me. He eyes were glowing with this bright white light, and it was like we were in some sort of tornado, though I’d never seen one before that I knew of. Everything in a mile radius was flattened, and there was no movement other than the wind coming from Sasha that I could see.  
“Sasha, it’s ok. It’s over, we’re safe now.” I started trying to calm her down, I didn’t know what would happen if she kept on like she was. Eventually the light started to fade, and we started to fall towards the ground. I managed to catch her and land on my feet, absorbing the impact with my heels. She was passed out, but still breathing. I didn’t know where we were, but I knew we needed to get out of there before anyone came looking.  
I picked a direction and started running, carrying Sasha in my arms, hopefully towards safety.


End file.
